


On Longing

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, What Could Have Been, another fic about dying, blurbs, dean pouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 07:30:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3126149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ceiling ebbs and flows before your eyes as you lay dying. The sun is warm on your paling face and the wounds in your flesh thrum out a slowing beat. You gaze into the light and you think to yourself: I would have wanted a daughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Longing

The ceiling ebbs and flows before your eyes as you lay dying. The sun is warm on your paling face and the wounds in your flesh thrum out a slowing beat. You gaze into the light and you think to yourself: I would have wanted a daughter.

A daughter with a smiling round face, small and fresh hands that you’d hold and lead softly until they were strong and sure. A daughter to cling to your ankles and babble away at you while you worked away at whatever you would. She would have hair like a summer day and she’d have Sammy’s eyes, of course. She’d cry to you with scraped knees and broken playthings and a tousled heart and you could tut about it all, smoothing over the roughness with bandaids and duct tape and wiser words. You would hold her to your chest and hear a heart beat next to yours that you could see grow. Your eyes fill and you think: I deserve this. I should have that. Why don’t I have that?

You would send her to school and you would crawl back to bed, breath mixing with his in the morning light. His fingers would lace with yours and his eyes would be solemn and bright behind eyelids puffed with sleep. He would sit beside you and bundle your girl up with you, a mess of scarves and gloves and hats, and lead her own into her first snowfall. You would grip his elbow and grin to see the amazement on both their faces as they both stumbled through it for their first respective times. Later, you would all be nearly indistinguishable underneath blankets and around mugs of cocoa.

Later still, his hands would be cold on your back and you would warm them with your mouth. When he would lie back and let the life be stolen rom his eyes, you would hold him down by the wrists and murmur to him every reason why you begged him to stay.

When you cough into the stale room, warmth spurts up your throat and down your cheeks, your eyes flooding over at the same moment. You make a valiant attempt at rolling over, and struggle to retain a grip on consciousness for all your effort. All the sunlight around you swirls, the dust in the air turned into stars. Almond green eyes are the sweetest thing you see, and you reach for a chubby hand extended to you.

A strong grip clamps onto your arm and jerks you forwards, and a hand presses painstakingly against your cheek, voices sounding above and behind you too foggy to even hear. They’re shrieks from underwater. You can’t even see his eyes, but your memory splashes them everywhere- blue as crisp as the sky and deep as the ocean. You fall into his arms and you drown in it.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't write coherent linear stuff apparently. So, have another blurb.


End file.
